Return To Me
by FangirlFangirlOnTheCeiling
Summary: Tully is left alone after witnessing Sherlock's 'death'. But she isn't left alone for much longer once Sherlock, the object of her affections, comes back. Set during season 3 and after, will probably be AU because of Season 3 cliffhanger and I don't want to get into that. Nothing will happen during season 4 basically in this story.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello anyone reading this! So yeah, this is the Tully and Sherlock oneshot series I've been planning! I was really eager to get this up so here it is! Also note, that on some chapters, I'll be doing something I'll call 'Recommended Listening' because music - as we all know - does affect our emotions. So there will be one or more songs that go pretty well with the chapter. There might be a featured song or just a song that's pretty good to listen to whilst reading. Anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy!**

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**Recommended listening:**

**Featured Song: The Light Behind Your Eyes – My Chemical Romance**

**Also Good To Listen To Whilst Reading:**

**Violet Hill – Coldplay**

**Boulevard Of Broken Dreams – Green Day**

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**Tully's POV**

I stared out the window of my apartment. It was December, and it was Christmas Eve. This would be the first Christmas without my consulting detective, and it silently killed me every day. It was snowing lightly, and the streets were alight with carollers and all the happy people and the children cheering merrily for Christmas. I was gloomy. Gloomy and alone.

I needed to get out. I needed to go somewhere. Somewhere peaceful and alone and dark. Without all the happiness around me. I left my home, locking the door behind me, and I went into 221B, grabbing one of Sherlock's coats. I left there and briskly walked out of the door into the cold streets.

All the happiness washed over me like a wave, but I refused to drown. I didn't want to be happy. I just wanted Sherlock back, but all of the heart ache that had made home in my frayed heart wouldn't bring him back. I was a weakling; I needed to get over it. I needed to carry on. But my mind – tormenting me with the forever replaying memory of Sherlock jumping – wouldn't let that happen.

I walked along the streets, the snow falling onto my back, greeting me with a cold sensation. Like it carried the news of times before, like it carried memories of Sherlock and I's time together, ruined by suicide and a man that loved to see the downfall of perhaps the best man I've ever known. Who was kind enough to let me join him, who was kind enough to be there for me, who was kind enough to tell me that I actually did do well.

My hate for Jim Moriarty burned like a raging fire inside me, making me feel bitter and angry.

I continued to walk the streets, alone in a world of people, all cheerful and with the ones they loved. I was the weed in the roses, the broken among the new. I felt sick to my stomach knowing everyone was so happy when only a few short months ago an innocent man died because of the torment of the living embodiment of Satan.

The manipulator, the trickster, the seemingly innocent child with the Devil's eyes. All perfect ways of describing Jim Moriarty.

I came to a park. It was empty, cold and dark, which was just what I needed now. I walked in and through the cold air, whispering its many secrets in my ears as it blew softly past me, taking the snowflakes with it.

I sat down on a park bench and thought about Sherlock. He was constantly on my mind, always gracing my thoughts with his deductions and interest in murder. God only knew how much I missed him.

This just all reminded me of that one song I'd listened to. _The Light Behind Your Eyes_ by My Chemical Romance, I believe.

"If I could be with you tonight, I would sing you to sleep. Never let them take the light behind your eyes." I said quietly, my words echoing around me as I referenced the song. I looked up to the foggy stars above and hung my head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Recommended Listening**

**Yellow – Coldplay**

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"Tully hardly talks to me anymore! And not even a call from you, John!" I heard Mrs Hudson's voice from downstairs. I understood how lonely she was, and I was just being selfish and rude not talking to her. But I never talked to anyone, anymore that is. I sighed as I looked around Sherlock's old apartment – correction, his old room. I was lying in his bed, contemplating what I would do with my life.

Mrs Hudson had given me a spare key to this place a while ago. She said I was welcome in any time, just to make sure I didn't dust anything. People sometimes say spirits loomed around their old homes, so I was here in my spare time. Waiting patiently. For a sight...A sound...Any sign of Sherlock would do.

His death still haunts my dreams – correction, nightmares. They always seem to stop when I come here at night, and I fall asleep in his bed. Like he's holding me in his arms. I sound like some kind of deranged stalker, but I'm just holding onto what's left. There isn't much, after all.

I heard the door opening and Mrs Hudson's voice sounded, "Tully?"

I leapt up and strolled out of his room, going to John and hugging him. He hugged me back, understanding the pain I was still going through. He was going to propose to his girlfriend – Mary – soon, and that made me happy for him. He wasn't stuck in a state of shock and pain, instead he carried on. Not like, carried on and totally forgetting, but...Carrying on and remembering. I still see the pain in his eyes every time I see him. But the pain is now well hidden with happiness for his future marriage he'd told me about not 2 weeks ago.

After I heard his news, I was ecstatic for once. I was happy for the brother I never had. His future fiancée was a lovely girl, and I could tell they'd be very happy together. But then I thought – and I still do – if Sherlock...If maybe we could've had that. But I dismiss that straight away, because he's gone, and there was nothing I could do.

"How are you?" John asked of me as Mrs Hudson drew open the curtains and coughed heavily. I looked back to him, "Oh, uh, fine." I said.

"You should really take some anti-depressants, Tully-" He started before I interrupted.

"John, I'm fine, really."

John handed me a small gift. It was a small black box with a white and purple ribbon attached on it, "Something from Mary. She wants you to be happy, as well." He told me.

I smiled, "Tell her thank you." Taking the box from John, I opened it and smiled with what was inside. It was a hand carved wooden fox, with a note reading, "I'm terribly sorry we haven't seen each other in a while. Be strong Tully, I know you'll be. Call me sometime so we can catch up."

"It's lovely, thanks." I told him. He nodded and followed Mrs Hudson around. I took my key and left, going to my apartment.

* * *

It was the day after John had proposed to Mary. I still can't believe that they're finally engaged. I hadn't seen John since before his date, and I haven't seen him since. I wouldn't expect him to come 'round anyway. I stumbled upstairs, carrying my bags of groceries. Mrs Hudson was no-where to be seen. I shrugged and kept going, getting to my floor and pulling out my key from my pocket. Sliding the metal key in, I turned it and it clicked as the door swung open. Eyes still on my groceries, I heard an eerily familiar voice.

"Hello, Tully." It said, voice deep and smooth. I looked up and _he_ was sitting on my couch, looking over to me with a smile on his face. I dropped my bags of groceries in shock and fright, "Who-who are you? Sherlock, he's dead. Do you..." My eyes blazed with brown fire, "Is this some kind of sick joke?!" I asked fiercely. Sherlock was dead, so how was he here in my apartment?

"Tully, it's me, I swear." He told me.

I still wasn't sure, so I asked him a few questions, "On our first case, where did I hide?"

"The refrigerator." He answered instantly.

"What did you call me when I took some of Jasper's blood?"

"Brilliant." He answered. My eyes were filling with tears, could it be him?

"When I was scared after the incident with the poisoned cocktails, what did you say to me?"

"I said, "Well then don't worry. You're safe now, you're OK...You're fine." You rested your head against my chest and I stroked your hair and fixed a small kiss on your forehead. I felt your heart beating against mine. I tried so hard to make you feel protected. I would never let that moment be deleted from my mind palace, it was far too special." He said.

Tears ran down my cheeks and I ran to him, hugging him, "Sherlock! It's you, it's really you!" I cried, Sherlock hugging me back. I cried tears that seemed never ending.

"I'm sorry." He said with a voice small.

"I mourned for you. I thought you were dead! I was going insane." I told him, crying more, choking on my own tears.

"I know, I know." He whispered to me, stroking from my hair to my back, "I'm so sorry."

I sniffled, "You have to promise this to me," I said, "Promise me you won't leave us again. Please." I asked, my voice shaky.

He nodded, "Not in death, no. Not for a while. My words are just sayings but I promise you that I am so sorry." I cried into his chest and he just hugged me, resting his forehead against my head, letting me cry. He stroked my back.

I stopped crying, "Have you told John?" I asked after a few moments.

He nodded, "He wasn't so pleased to see me."

I nodded, understanding. "Well, are you okay?"

"Yes, I've just got a few wounds from Serbia." He told me as if it was nothing.

I gasped, "Wounds from Serbia?" I repeated. I tore off his coat and he unbuttoned his suit, understanding I wanted to see his wounds. He took off his suit and I looked as his long scars and bruises.

"Oh, Sherlock." I winced, running light fingers across his scars. I planted a small kiss on a scar on the back of his neck and I heard him sigh happily.

He stood, pulled on his shirt and suit jacket, then sat down. I felt him wrap his arms around me and gently pick me up, setting me in his lap. I blushed as he leant in to my right ear, "I was at the graveyard when they first buried "me". I heard every word, Tully." He told me.

I tried pulling away at that moment but his hug was too tight, "Tully, you've always known that I viewed love as something insignificant and, quite frankly, stupid." He told me. He knew, and he was rejecting my affections. I felt like crying more. I tried pulling away again but he kept hugging me, looking into my eyes. I stared into his as he said softly, "But under this hard shell that is my exterior, under all our shared love for deductions and mystery and murder, I've only wanted to make you happy and I have had feelings for you. I never wanted to say anything because I only deduced it was petty male attraction to a female, but I soon realized it wasn't attraction, it was something far more than that." He whispered, as if only for my ears. He pulled me closer to himself, his nose touching mine. I hugged him back. "It was love." He told me quietly.

I blushed as he leant in closer and kissed me. I dared not pull away as I kissed him back. We stayed like that for what felt like ages, before he pulled away. I felt myself blush madly and he pulled me back to him when I tried pulling away. He let me snuggle into his chest, and he stroked my hair gently, wiping away my tears with his finger.

I smiled, "I love you, too." I told him. I looked up to see him smile, and he kissed my forehead.

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It was Midnight. I couldn't sleep. Nightmares of Sherlock's supposed death taunted me, even though I knew he was fine. I tossed and turned in my bed, but I couldn't sleep, no matter how hard I tried. I got up and pulled a dressing gown over my shoulders and slipped some black slippers on my feet, trudging out the door and downstairs, locking the door after me. Sherlock was up; I heard his somewhat lonely violin playing from inside his apartment. I knocked on the door and it stopped. I heard footsteps and then Sherlock opened the door, in his pajamas with a blue dressing gown on his shoulders.

"Hi." I said.

"Hello, and might I ask why you're here?" He asked of me, letting me in.

"I couldn't sleep." I answered.

He nodded, "But why couldn't you sleep?" he questioned.

"Your death. It came to me as a nightmare. Again. I know it's not true but...It scares me." I answered. He led me to his room and told me to fall asleep in his bed.

"Why?" I asked simply, lying down once I had taken my dressing gown and slippers off.

He lied down next to me and hugged me, "You're afraid. Now that I can, I'm just going to hold you. Because that's what people who are like this with each other do, right?" He asked me. I nodded.

"Thank you." I whispered and turned to face him. He looked into my eyes and kissed me gently.

"I missed you." I told him as we pulled away.

"I know. I missed you, too." He told me, holding me close.


	3. Chapter 3

**As always, I don't and never will own Sherlock. Remember, please review!**

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**Recommended listening: Hold On Till May - Pierce The Veil**

**Time: Past season 4. A few months later.**

**Tully's POV**

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I poked my head around the corner, seeing nothing. I looked back up at Sherlock and shook my head. He nodded and we edged out from around the corner, walking down the hallway.

We were looking for an arsonist. He was short with a thin figure and he was extremely dangerous. Anything he didn't like went up in flame. So yeah, basically he was a psychopath.

I paused in the hallway, seeing it was a dead end. We turned around but then saw the arsonist staring at us with cold eyes.

"I've been looking for you two." He murmured, pulling out a can of petrol from behind his back and a pack of matches. Before we could run, the man was spilling the petrol on the ground and splashing it on the walls. Sherlock tried the door next to us, but it was locked. He pulled out a match and lit it, chucking into the liquid. He turned, walking away calmly as the flames erupted, going up the walls and around us.

"What do we do?" I asked. Sherlock pulled a hairpin out of my hair and started to pick at the lock as the flames got higher and higher. Some of the wooden floor was already giving way. The door sprung open and the sound of the flames was deafening. Sherlock ran down the flight of stairs through the door. I was about to follow him when the roof started to cave in. I leaped out of the way, and stood with my back against the wall, "Sherlock!" I screamed. It was useless.

I coughed heavily, trying to keep away from the flames.

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**Sherlock's POV**

I rang the fire service and ambulance as I ran down the stairs and as I exited the house I heard a siren down the street. I looked around. Tully wasn't with me. I looked back up at the burning building in horror. "Tully get to a window now!" I shouted hopelessly. I thought she was behind me! I felt a bead of sweat coming on my forehead as the fire truck arrived. I gazed at them and one ran to me, "Is anyone else in the building?"

"Yes, second floor up the stairs on the right door is where one of them is. There are more scattered throughout the home." I told him quickly and he ran off with many others.

Moments passed and the guilt settled in my stomach. People came in and out of the house with burns and other injuries. I then saw moving near the doorway and a fireman came out, carrying Tully in his arms. She had an oxygen mask on her face, and she seemed unconscious. I followed them as he put her on a stretcher.

"Are you with her, sir?" A nurse asked me, rolling the stretcher to an ambulance.

"Yes, she's my partner." I said. The nurse let me in the back with Tully and we drove to the hospital.

I sat at her bedside in a plastic chair, drumming my fingers on the arm. She had carbon monoxide poisoning. And now she was in a coma. This was my fault. I had not checked that she was behind me.

"Oh my dear, I'm sorry I let this happen." I murmured.

A doctor came in and I gazed up at him, "She's stable, Mr. Holmes, but she's still in a coma. We'll just have to wait."

I didn't want to lose her.

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**Tully's POV**

I awoke to the sounds of beeps and violin. I yawned, looking to my left to see Sherlock playing violin. His eyes were closed deep in thought. He finished and looked down at me, "You're alright." He breathed, relieved, putting the violin away and calling out for a doctor.

"I'm sorry." He told me, taking my hand. I nodded, squeezing his hand.

"I'm so glad you're alright." I told him.

A doctor soon entered the space, then he proceeded with medical talk that I found boring, but Sherlock listened to.

"So she should stay here a few more days, but then she should stay at home for a few days just to rest." The doctor concluded.

Sherlock later explained that I had been out for almost a week.

As I sat in my bed later that evening after Sherlock had returned to Baker Street reading, a nurse came in with some disgustingly awful hospital food. I kept reading, trying to ignore the food.

"You know, he spent most of his time here waiting for you to wake up." The nurse told me.

I looked up from my book, "Pardon?"

"That Sherlock Holmes fellow. He spent a lot of time here. Just watching you and waiting. I pitied him, I really did. I didn't think you'd get out of your coma." The nurse told me. He really did care. I wanted him here with me now.

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Sherlock opened my door of the cab, taking my hand. I stood and we walked into 221B. Sherlock protectively kissed the side of my head as we walked into his apartment. I sat on the couch and picked up a book, and Sherlock came over, sitting down and lying on his back, resting his head in my lap. Like he did when Moriarty was on trial.

"Hey, while I was out, did anything happen to the arsonist?" I asked Sherlock, flipping a page in my book.

"Yes, he suffered burns and I found him at the hospital. I arrested him immediately." Sherlock told me.

I nodded, "Any other cases?"

"Yes, but I have to look after you for a little while. You're my case at the moment." He told me. I smiled. This meant he really cared about me. I put my book down, looking down at him and smiling. I asked him to sit up and he did so, and I leaned into him, resting my head against his chest. I heard his steady heart beat and felt his arms wrap around me. I leaned up and kissed him passionately. I was lucky to have him.

Sherlock pressed his forehead against mine as we stood, "I'm glad I didn't lose you." He told me. I moved forward a little, but me being the klutz I was, I tripped on the rug Sherlock had, and we both fell back onto the couch. Sherlock was pressed between the couch and me. I blushed, but Sherlock thought nothing of it. Instead, he started to wrap his arms around me and kissed my neck and collarbone.

"Bedroom?" He suggested, pulling away.

I blushed. He must've deduced this from me at some point, "Sure."

We then moved to the bedroom immediately, Sherlock unbuttoning a button or two on the way.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm so so so sorry for not updating for ages! I'm juggling fics at the moment.**

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**Sherlock's POV**

I awoke the next morning when the sun was just rising, and I smelt tea in the air. I opened my eyes groggily and saw a steaming cup of tea on my bedside table, and I sat up in bed, taking the cup and sipping from it, remembering the events of the night.

I remembered afterward when we just laid in bed, holding each other closely. Like we were the only ones left. We were both just specks of existence on this pitiful earth, but we were in love. Something of sentiment, yes, but I felt many different things when I was with her. Emotions were things that weakened, but they could enrich if taken in the correct doses.

I looked to my right to see that Tully wasn't there, and one of the sheets in my cupboard was gone. I put the cup down and got up, dashing for another sheet. I wrapped it around me and grabbed my cup, walking back out to the living room, where Tully was sitting on the couch with the sheet wrapped around her, legs curled up, reading a book.

"Thanks for the tea." I said. She looked up and smiled, bringing her feet closer to her and putting her book down. I walked over to her and sat next to her, bringing up my feet and bringing my arms around her stomach, putting the cup on the coffee table.

Tully smiled, looking over to me and kissing my cheek, "You're welcome and good morning." She pressed her lips against mine. She took my hand across her stomach and put it over her heart. She pulled away and sighed contently, "I love this." She told me.

It was then that there was a knock on the door and it creaked open. Tully sprung out of my arms and hid as Mrs. Hudson entered the room with a tray of tea and biscuits. She saw the tea on the coffee table, "Look at that, Sherlock! You actually did something yourself for once."

"No, Mrs. Hudson, Tully made that for me." I told her.

"Well that was sweet of her, wasn't it?" She asked with a smile, "Oh I wish you two would stop being so secretive to everyone about it."

Tully and I had decided we'd only tell a few people about our relationship.

"I don't want the press getting their noses into it. It's our private life and we don't wish to share it with all of London. And besides, what would happen when Tully gets pregnant? The press wouldn't leave her alone."

"Well Sherlock, before you let that happen you'd have to marry her."

"I don't believe in marriage. Tully knows that and she doesn't mind." I told Mrs. Hudson.

"Are you sure Sherlock? Are you sure she wasn't just saying that not to scare you away?" she asked me.

I thought about this. Could Mrs. Hudson be right?

"Besides, you'd get more respect that way." She told me.

"In what way?"

"When you have a child with her, Sherlock."

I scoffed, "_When_?"

"You said when, earlier." She told me, leaving.

I backtracked. Yes, I had said 'when'. I shook my head and saw Tully coming back with her laptop, "We should get to some cases."

"Tully are you sure you're okay with my opinion on marriage?" I asked her.

She just nodded, "Yes, I'm fine. Really. What's the point?" She asked. I could tell she wasn't lying, "Now come on; I want to get back onto a case."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! Haven't updated this in ages - just thought I should give you something. This came to mind when I was listening to Party Poison by MCR.**

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**Sherlock's POV**

It was Halloween. Tully was dressed as a Killjoy – which I knew was from something related to My Chemical Romance.

"This holiday is for children, Tully." I told her as she walked through the kitchen wearing a red nylon jacket and green and black camoflauge shirt. She had suspenders on and knee high converse and shorts. She had her aviators perched on her head and a yellow bandana around her neck.

"I like dressing up." She told me.

I shook my head, "Once you're done feeding the children, come back so we can work out this case, alright?" I asked, looking again at my wall and tearing off a suspect.

"I'm not feeding them, I'm going trick or treating." She told me, holding up a plastic jack-o-lantern bucket.

I shook my head, "You do that."

"Please come," She begged, "It'll be fun! I'm going with Mary and Ellie." Ellie was Mary and John's 1 year old daughter.

"No, I have to work." I answered.

Shoulders slumped, she grabbed the bucket and went to the door.

"Wait," I said suddenly. I sighed, rolling my eyes, "I'll come."

Tully perked up, "Really? Oh good!" She ran back to me and dragged me to the bedroom, "You need to dress up like something." She told me, looking in the wardrobe.

She threw clothes to the side, finally finding a green shirt and a brown jacket. She handed them to me with some brown pants and a brown leather belt. Once I came back from getting changed, she stuck something on my ears and handed me a fake bow and arrow set.

"You're a _Lord of the Rings_ elf!" She declared. I looked in the mirror, admiring her handiwork, "Shall we go?" She asked.

I nodded, "Where are we meeting them?"

"They should be outside now, actually." She told me as we locked up and left the apartment.

She bounded down the stairs excitedly, looking back up to me and smiling, "Thanks." She pecked me on the lips once I got to her and continued outside.


End file.
